I want to hurt the ones who stole our chance at love
by SailorYue
Summary: Everything was going great for them, until something changed. Suddenly Aziraphale doesn't even know who Crowley is. Just what the heaven and hell is going on? Crowley won't give up until he figures this out.
1. Trapped behind the wall

this was inspired by a song by Voltaire... I'll reveal that later.

Crowley sat there, bound, trussed up like a prize pig. His arms bound behind him by holy ropes, with clothes wrecked. Not that he cared about them. His snake eyes full of the rage he felt deep in his heart. Around him were small pits of fire, hell fire that he spent around this top floor. He had lost his fight. Though he tried hard to eliminate as many angels as possible, he managed to only hurt them. He's to be executed now, not that it mattered. Without Aziraphale, NOTHING mattered to him. He just wished he'd had managed to out one of these smug bastards for what they did. For years, eons he suspected, they'd degraded Aziraphale and tried to bully him. And somehow, they succeeded. Try as he might, in the end he lost.

He hoped that whatever happened to Aziraphale after his extinction, the angel would be happy. The angel deserved happiness. And in spite of everything, even himself, his happiness was the most important. He just wished the past few months had gone differently than they did. Perhaps been more honest with them both. Its too late now, isn't it? How in anything and everything did it all go so wrong? He looked into the blue eyes of the person in front of him, the one person he would do anything for, as he stood before him, heavenly sword ready to strike him down and thought, not even that far back... but just close to six months ago...

...

Things couldn't have been better. They averted the end of the world and managed to get both of their respective head offices to get off their backs. It was nearly perfect. Crowley and Aziraphale had just finished their usual date night of sorts at their usual place, the Ritz. It was Aziraphale's favorite restaurant in all of London, and though the demon rarely ate, he enjoyed watching the angel enjoy himself. They made this a usual thing, though the wait staff never really remembered them.

"This certainly is quite nice, Crowley. Enjoying this peaceful time." Aziraphale said after wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin, having just enjoyed some nice tiramisu.

"Indeed it is, angel. It is getting late though, isn't it?" He looked at his very expensive watch, and noted it was getting close to the restaurant's closing.

"Oh dear, it is, isn't it?"

They both got up and headed out towards the Bentley, Crowley opening the door for the angel. In all honesty, in six thousand years he had never felt happier. He had finally stopped pretending that a demon shouldn't be in love, and had been planning something for some time for the angel. He almost broke down and dropped the surprise that evening, it had been three months now since the not-apocalypse. But tomorrow night was a special date. He wouldn't ruin this in the slightest.

"Do you want to come in for a drink, my dear?" Aziraphale stood by the entrance of his shop.

Crowley thought a moment, he knew he would crack if they got drunk. "Nah, thanks. I haven't yelled at my plants all day. And if I don't, they'll slack off."

The angel shook his head with a smile, knowing that there was a reasoning for what Crowley did, so he let him be. "See you tomorrow night?"

"You can count on it. Good night, angel." Crowley got in his car and drove off, hand patting his jacket pocket, making sure the item he had in it was still safe.

He worked hard to figure the maths for the date. Thanks to good old Julius Caesar changing how humanity recorded time, he had completely lost track. But thanks to looking at star charts and going to said stars in Alpha Centuri, he was most certain that the date was correct. It would be perfect making everything the same. The date to fall on the day they had first met outside of Eden. Crowley couldn't help but smile. He couldn't wait till the angel saw it. He knew he wouldn't even be able to sleep, not that he even needed it. As he walked around the flat, spritzing the plants with the water mister, eyeing them but not with as close precision as he normally would. He just felt so nervous he couldn't even bring himself to outright destroy the plant that had a bad leaf, instead just ripping the bad leaf off. Tomorrow evening couldn't come sooner.

The next night, Crowley had everything prepared. He had never felt so on edge, full of anticipation, since the apocalypse that never was. He parked in front of Aziraphale's bookshop, ready to take the angel somewhere special. A picnic under the stars. He walked up to the door only to find it was locked. Strange. In the entire time the shop has been open, the front door had never been locked. Shrugging, the demon waved the door open and went inside.

"Aziraphale?" He called out, looking around and seeing nothing out of the ordinary. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"I do apologize, but the shop is most definitely closed. I could have sworn I locked that door." The angelic man muttered the last part under his breath.

"Are you ready to go, angel?" The demon shoved his hands in his pockets, finding it hard to keep a smile off his face at the sight of the other man.

"Go?" Aziraphale looked confused. "Go where? I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The words gave Crowley pause. What game was the angel getting at? "On our date? I thought we would change it up and go on a picnic. You'd said once that it would be a nice thing to do." (Sure it was 50 ought years since Aziraphale mentioned it, but picnics were something special.)

"I honestly don't know what you are talking about, sir. You must have the wrong store. If you will?" The angel gestured towards the door which blew open of its own accord.

Crowley frowned, looking at the other man. As far as he could tell, it WAS Aziraphale, he could feel the unmistakable heavenly aura radiating from him, bright as the sun. But maybe something was wrong. "Yeah. Right. Sorry."

He bowed out of the store, and barely flinched when the door slammed shut behind him. He heard the locks turn and turned to look at the door. Something was VERY wrong and he was going to have a hell, or maybe heavenly time depending which side of the coin you use, to figure out what.

He had no idea just how right he was.

Crowley gave the angel a week's time. Sure they had gone years, centuries even, during their disagreements in the past. But that was before they had decided that they no longer were part of opposite sides, but rather on a third side. He found it almost hard to stay away from the angel no matter what. Even during their row back in 1865, the demon still kept a watchful eye over the angel, especially with humanity's silly wars. No matter how angry the angel made him, he refused to allow him to get himself discorporated because of an argument.

So he kept a watchful eye on the shop, although that was also due to the fact that he was still terrified deep down that one of their enemies might try to burn it down again. He wouldn't say as much as he just sat by the shop, no. But whenever he was traveling around London, he would make it a point to drive by the shop.

After a while though, he figured there had been plenty of time to give the angel some time to himself in order to calm down. He walked up to the shop, this time during the time the shop was open. (Not that one could really nail down actual hours for the place!) He wasn't much of a book reader, but he could appreciate older things. He looked around the crowded shop, noting that there was a small handful of humans standing around, looking for the light in the shadowy shop.

"Yes, can I help you?" Crowley turned to the voice, seeing the most important person in the shop standing in the doorway to the back.

"Angel, look, I honestly have no idea what I've done, but you have to let me make it up to you." He walked over to the door with purpose.

"Oh, dear, its you isn't it? From the other night." Aziraphale fidgeted. "I told you before, I have no idea who you are. You must have me mistaken for someone else."

In frustration, Crowley snatched off his sunglasses. "I know who you are, Aziraphale. It's me Crowley, how could you not know who..."

The angel's eyes widen at the sight of Crowley's serpentine eyes, recognition clicking. "You should get out of here, foul demon!"

Aziraphale has called Crowley a foul demon in the past, its nothing new. But something was different this time. Before there never was any real bite in the words. Like they were more out of habit than anything. This time was different. The bite, the anger, all but made the demon step back.

"Angel?" His voice barely above a whisper.

"Be gone foul fiend." The angel said again, with more force.

Crowley put his glasses back on then held his hands up in acquiescence. "Okay. Yeah..."

He walked back to the Bentley, his mind reeling. What had gotten into the angel? It was as if six thousand years had just...vanished from the angel's mind. Something was going on, and he was going to find out. And neither heaven or hell will stand in his way.a

He decided to do some observation, watch over the shop to see if anything out of the ordinary would happen. Unfortunately his fancy classic car stuck out like a sore thumb, so he would have to watch some other way. Miraculously a shop across the street from Aziraphale's book shop had gone up for rent. Crowley opened it as a floral shop and moved all his plants there. He would stay here as long as he had to in order to find out what was going on with his dearest friend.

As the weeks passed there was one thing he noticed most, Aziraphale never went out for dinner. Even during times when they weren't as close, he knew the angel to love humanity's foods. Especially sushi. It was one of the numerous things he loved about the angel, how enthusiastically he would eat sweets. Yet now, he rarely ever left the shop. Only when he would go to St James park. The first time he went there, Crowley followed at a distance; the other man looking lonely, like he was waiting for someone but not knowing who. He wanted to try again.

"Mind if I sit here?" He walked up to the other man, who Crowley noted was wearing lighter colors instead of the earthy tones he had known the man to wear for centuries.

"You!" Aziraphale frowned at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I just happen to like this park. I used to come here with someone dear to me. There's something wrong with them, and I was just looking for some company." Crowley kept his hands out of his pockets to try to look as non-threatening as he could.

"Hmph another demon I'm sure. I'm certain there are other benches in the park you can sit at. A human to tempt into evil?"

Crowley shrugged, grateful the glasses hid the pain in his eyes. "Nah... I prefer inconveniences over outright evil. And besides, you looked lonely yourself. I figured... misery loves company."

The angel looked doubtful. "Well. Don't think you can try to tempt me to your side, demon."

"Crowley." He sat down, falling into his normal slouch, next to the angel.

"Aziraphale."

It was all Crowley could do not to throw his hand on the back of the bench and lean his slouch onto the other man, like they used to.

"Were you waiting for someone?" He asked.

"Actually I'm not entirely sure," Aziraphale answered. "I like this park, its quite peaceful and makes me happy for some reason. I felt almost like I should be meeting someone here, but can't quite remember why or who."

Crowley bit his cheek. Something certainly erased or locked away the angel's memories. And he had a feeling as to who. He frowned and glared at the sky, daring one of those prissy angels who tried to murder HIS angel just for loving humanity, to come down and stop him from re-befriending Aziraphale.

"How odd. So you're an angel, are you?" He asked.

"Yes. I don't think I've seen you around, Crowley. Or if I have, I never noticed you as a demon."

"Oh yeah, I've been around. A while to be perfectly honest. You're not like other angels I've met. You have a much different attitude than those with holier-than-thou personalities."

"Ah, well. I have seemed to become too human than the others have liked, what with stopping the apocalypse and all..."

Crowley let loose a grin. So he remembered that? How much of it? "That was you, was it? No one else?"

"I... " The angel frowned. "I think it was just me, and some humans and the anti-Christ child. I'm pretty sure there was no one else."

Crowley sat up and leaned closer to Aziraphale. "You sure? No demon working with you? Helping you?"

"I..." The angel hesitated, leaning away. " A demon helping humanity? Certainly not. I'm sorry, but I really must be going, I've dawdled a bit too much here. I have a meeting with Gabriel in a little while. Nice talking to you, Crowley."

Crowley watched as his friend walked away rubbing his forehead. He almost had something, he was certain of it. He reached into his jacket pocket feeling the small velvet box, it's weight seemingly to grow. He might just have to step up his efforts.

In the end this will have 3 chapters. please comment and subscribe!


	2. Free the caged bird in your heart

Time had passed since their initial meeting at the park, and after a while, after a few meetings, he noticed that the angel eventually started pulling away till he just stopped going to the park. He found himself getting angrier and angrier at the whole situation, taking his frustration at the flowers and plants in the shop for the whole thing. He almost just wanted to sleep another century by, but no. He wouldn't give up. He had to keep trying, as the few times he saw the angel leave his shop, he seemed much less happy than he's used to. He absolutely needed to fix this, for...somebody's sake!

He waited till the next time the angel left his shop to try to talk to him.

"Aziraphale! It's been a while!" He greeted the man with a smile.

"Oh, Crowley. Nice to see you. How is your flower shop?"

"Going well. My plants are the best in London, if they know any better. Can I treat you to lunch?"

Aziraphale brightened, before immediately frowning. "No, I really need to stop indulging on human food. I've let my body go really. I need to take much better care of it! Thank you for the offer, but I must be going."

Crowley frowned at his retreating back. That certainly was a big change. What were those bastards going on about?

It had been some time now, nearly four months since this whole thing happened. As far as Crowley could tell, Aziraphale was going back and forth between heaven and earth, as several times throughout the past months he felt the angel's presence vanish periodically. The only reasoning he was sure the angel would come back was, the first time it happened the demon had followed him to the main building. It didn't make anything less nerve wracking though.

Crowley was not the best flower-shop purveyor, as his presence seemed to scare patrons away more than anything, but he really didn't care too much if he were to be honest. The more time that passed, the more he felt he was losing the chance to bring back Aziraphale. Heaven had all but erased the angel's memories, and he became so cold and aloof towards him whenever they met on the streets. He wasn't one to give up. He drove through infernal fire and kept his Bentley in one piece for the entire drive to Tadfield to stop the end of the world. He stopped time against the king of hell. He wasn't about to let some bastards get in his way.

He decided to pay the angel a visit to try again. It had been some time since he tried the direct approach, but it was better than sitting around glowering at flowers to get them to bloom. He reached for the door and immediately had to let go. It was blessed? He sucked on the holy wound on his finger, wondering when Aziraphale had the shop blessed.

"You should take that as your one warning, demon, and go back to your plants." A voice stated calmly behind him. He spun around and saw the dark angel, one that in heaven their face was covered in gold leaf scales. Their name escaped him.

"Oh yeah? And what, you're going to try stopping me?" He clenched the injured hand in a fist, not paying attention to the wound. Wouldn't be the first time he had a holy injury.

"If you know what's better for you. Unless you want to be slain here?" The angel crossed her arms, giving a very cocky look.

Crowley clenched his teeth. This angel was trying to get the better of him, and he would love to take her out. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge of the fact that at any point the angel could spawn a flaming holy sword out of thin air. The angel got into his face, which somehow was intimidating, in spite of the fact they were half a foot shorter than he was.

"Don't think you've won... whatever your name is. I'm not one to give up." He stared at the angel.

"Don't think you can save him, demon," The angel gave him a firm poke in the chest. Crowley had a dark feeling that he is not the only one whom the angel had been physical with. "In the end good always conquers evil." The angel walked into the shop.

Crowley stared up at the shop, he was wondering how long he was going to be able to stand this. This wall around Aziraphale. Whatever this game heaven was playing... could he even win? Now that he couldn't even go in to talk to the angel, HIS angel, well... he had to think of a way around this. He shook his injured left hand and walked back to his shop. The pain on his hand nowhere near the pain in his heart.

One day, a month after his meeting with the dark skinned angel he learned was named Uriel, something changed drastically. A 'for sale' sign appearing on the front window of the book shop. Seeing that made a pit open in Crowley's stomach. He was selling the shop? Why? He ran a hand through his hair, which he had made much shorter than it has been in centuries; the curls catching just so on his fingers.

His left hand, still scarred from the door handle, a vague heart shape, was clutched around the box in his pocket. The shape of the injury was somewhat ironic. He couldn't heal it away due to the nature of it. The pain itself he grew to tolerate as the only one who could heal it would be an angel, much like his feet back in 1941. Aziraphale had to remove the blessing from his injuries so he was able to heal them. But he didn't think that he could talk to the angel to have him fix this injury.

He had to find out why all of the sudden the angel was closing his shop. What was happening now? He watched the book store from the window of his flower shop like a hawk; or rather like a snake waiting to strike it's pray. He stood still practically for two hours until the door opened and the angel walked out, probably on another stroll. He had seen Aziraphale go on these walks, and the walks seem to not be a very pleasurable thing for the angel. He had once asked why he did something unenjoyable a couple of months ago, and the angel's response was that he had let his human body waste and get much too soft for a proper angel. The plants got an earful after that. The angel was perfect the way he was, full of love and joy.

He walked out trying to catch up with the other man, Crowley noting that gone were his earthy toned clothing and now he wore whites and creams and...no tartan. As much as he teased the Aziraphale for wearing the pattern, it was a signature look for the angel. Much like his own chain necklaces, or even the Bentley. The demon ground his teeth at how drastically different he had become in the past months. The angel's uniqueness essentially gone.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley called out, catching the other man's attention.

"Oh! You... Crowley was it? Can I help you?" The angel looked almost happy to see him, but Crowley noticed that the happiness was quickly suppressed.

"I just wanted to ask a question, angel." Crowley held his hands out, before hiding his left hand. "I noticed you were closing your book shop? What brought that on?"

"Oh, that. Yes. Well... it appears I have been promoted. I am to return to heaven at the end of the week." Crowley noted the sad tone

"You've had that store for centuries though. If I'm not mistaken, since the French Revolution?" Crowley suppressed his own smile at the memory of the angel sitting in the Bastille minutes from being discorporated all because he wanted a French pastry. He greatly missed the angel's enthusiasm about food, and his endearing naivete.

"Yes." Aziraphale nodded. "It just appears that heaven would appreciate my services, in...heaven. You don't just turn down a promotion like this."

Crowley was getting done with this. He was tired of trying to bring out Aziraphale's old personality. It was trying to convince the angel to avert the apocalypse all over again. "You can't let those bastards treat you this way angel. I've been trying to tell you how wrong this was!"

The angel seemed to flinch at his outburst. Aziraphale never flinched at his outbursts. Crowley felt sick. He couldn't take this any more. His angel was gone. Perhaps forever. He had to do something, make them pay for doing this. And he would try if this was the last thing he would do. And it may very well be!

"Forget it. I'm sorry, angel. Good luck with whatever your future entails." The demon stormed off.

Crowley sat in the Bentley across the street from the book shop for only God knew how long. He had an idea, a very bad one. But at this point he had nothing left to lose. He looked at the letter in his hand, one he had just finished writing. He just only had to deliver it, which wasn't going to be easy. It was his final epithet. A farewell to the one person who may in the end not even understand it.

Aziraphale

You may not remember how important the last 6000 years were. You made being a demon bearable. I wish I had the chance to tell you just how important they were, and now it's too late. What I plan to do may be the last thing I ever do. Just promise to not let them ever take your brightness away. It's your best aspect.

C

He signed it with his usual flourish, a sigil that looked mostly like a crawling snake. With a sigh, he walked towards the door of the book shop, and steadied himself, knowing that the blessing on the door would hurt. But its nothing new, is it? He acted quickly to shove the letter in the slot, not realizing as he rose back to his feet that something fell out of his pocket. With a new purpose, he got back into the car and drove to a very tall building in London that humans tended to ignore. What he was planning, it would require a great deal of power. More than he had ever used. More than stopping time against the king of hell. He didn't care anymore, about what heaven or hell said.

He walked through the door and stared at the twin escalators in the foyer and steeled himself, then he unleashed himself to his full power, his demonic form which was the stuff of nightmares. If heaven wanted a war, he was going to give him one.


	3. Our names are written in the stars

In his entire existence Crowley had ever only made two true mistakes. One was the one that led to his fall. Lucifer and other demons led the rebellion against God, and his only crime really was asking 'why?' He didn't really participate in the actual fighting, he wasn't much one for fighting. But back then, curiosity was liable to kill the cat. And Lucifer, being rather charismatic, was able to bring out the curiosity in anyone. And unfortunately God was much less forgiving back then.

The second mistake he made was attacking heaven all on his own. Although to be perfectly honest, his first one was for a more selfish reason than the latter. He attacked heaven, and managed to do very minimal damage before being subdued, out of love. He had at least managed to permanently sear several parts of heaven's otherwise spotlessness with hellfire.

He sat there bound by holy chains, burning through his clothes and flesh, glaring full of hatred to the high and mighty archangels who instigated this whole ordeal. If they had kept their pretty little noses out of business that wasn't their own, well, none of them would be here would they? His yellow eyes completely unshaded as his glasses were long since lost in the schism.

The short bald one, named Sandalphon Crowley had managed to render unconscious. He remembered the angel from Sodom and Gomorra, (an event that he had nothing to do with personally, but he had witnessed third hand the event) and knew out of all of the angels, he would be the most dangerous. Of the others, he did only some damage. Michael stood to the side, winded and hair mussed but otherwise uninjured; Uriel he had managed to claw, leaving a scar along those pretty little gold scales. Gabriel unfortunately managed to get by uninjured, if his clothes only slightly a mess.

He knew he wouldn't manage to do much. He knew the risk this was. He just wished he had managed to kill one of them with the hellfire he had used, somehow managing to miss every time. He sat there, arms bound behind him, waiting for the angels to decide which would have the right to eliminate him. He wished they would get on with it.

"So sorry I'm late! What in heaven's name?" Crowley felt a chill in his stomach at hearing that voice. He couldn't turn around, but the owner of that voice was one he would never not know. The angel who once held his heart walked into view.

"Aziraphale, you're right on time!" Gabriel's cruel purple eyes twinkled with such malice Crowley was honestly surprised he wasn't truly a demon. "You can do your first duty of your new position by eliminating this demon invader!"

"Oh... um... yes." The angel fidgeted. "Right."

The demon knew that his hesitation was due to the fact that in the 6000 years he's known the angel, he has never harmed anyone. Sure there was nearly killing the antichrist, but that was a special case and even then, neither really wanted to go through with it.

Uriel handed Aziraphale their flaming sword and Crowley knew it would be over soon. It was almost poetic. Nearly like one of Shakespeare's gloomy plays. He looked up into the unsure blue eyes of the angel he would gladly give his life for. If anyone were to be the one to destroy him, it was an honor almost that it was him. He let out a humorless laugh and closed his eyes, not wanting to look into those blue eyes that at one point had been so full of love and joy.

"You're...crying..."

His eyes snapped open. Was he? He really couldn't tell, being tied up the way he was. He watched as a tear fell from his face to the floor in front of him.

"Why?" He heard the hesitation in the angel's voice, something almost familiar.

He gave a shrug. "Stuff happened." His voice thick, he tried swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I lost my best friend."

"I'm so sorry to hear it."

Suddenly it was as if time slowed to a crawl. There was a clatter as the sword slipped out of Aziraphale's hand; the angel clutching at his head.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley called out, lunging against his bonds, ignoring the pain as Aziraphale collapsed to his knees.

"Crowley?" The angel muttered opening his eyes to see the demon, bound by heavenly chains. "What... On Earth is..."

His voice trailed off taking stock of just what was going on: Heaven on fire, Sandalphon unconscious, Michael not looking like her prim self, and Crowley: clothes tattered, glasses in pieces and bound like prisoner. Without question, he waved the ropes away, and the demon fell forward onto his elbows, loosed from the searing bonds. Aziraphale rushed over to help him up, not quite sure what on Earth, or rather heaven to be exact, was going on.

"Angel." Crowley's voice full of such emotion. "Do... D'you remember me?"

The angel frowned. "Why in heaven's name wouldn't I remember you?"

The demon couldn't be too sure tho, not yet. His yellow serpentine eyes met blue. "How long have we been friends?"

"6000 years." Aziraphale answered without hesitation, just full of concern.

Crowley sagged with relief. Thank... You know what, Satan can suck it for once. Thank GOD.

"Crowley dear, what IS going on?"

The demon looked over at the nearby not-so-nice angels. "Why don't you ask them?"

Aziraphale looked over at Gabriel and the others in confusion, then back at his dear friend. What was... He was in the process of helping Crowley up when he noticed his very expensive watch. He snatched up the demon's wrist to look at it closer, muttering an apology when he winced. The angel felt a cold put in his stomach.

"My dear, is this watch accurate?"

"It knows better than to be even a second wrong." Crowley felt very tired. If they made it out of this he was probably going to sleep for a few decades, in the book shop of course because damn anyone who would dare try this bullshit again.

"Oh. Oh my he..." Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. Not his heaven no. Somehow he missed several months. And in those months something had given Crowley the brilliant idea to attack heaven. He noted the extinguished sword nearby. It took him millennia to realize that the other angels were cruel. He just never thought they would be this cruel.

"I'm so sorry you went through this alone, my dear." Aziraphale placed a gentle kiss on the demon's forhead before waving his hand to instantly heal all of his wounds. Crowley felt he had the ability and even energy to breath again, not that he truly needed to, but sometimes it was a nice habit.

"What are you doing, Aziraphale. You can't go healing a demon!" Gabriel said with a stern voice.

"Why not?" For the first time in his existence Aziraphale asked a selfish question. All angels knew that questions are what led to the great rebellion so he had always suppressed the urge to ask them. But now, he wanted to know.

"It's an enemy!" The purple eyed bastard spoke derisively.

"Enemy? I don't see an enemy in him. I see companionship. A friend I've held dearly since the Beginning. The only enemy I see are in you, and even so I can't truly bring myself to hate you all." Aziraphale gave a sad smile.

"I can." Crowley muttered under his breath, finally having the strength to stand.

Aziraphale smiled at the one beacon that had been there for millennia. A thought passed his mind that made the smile slowly vanish.

"That's the problem, isn't it? The fact that Crowley is a demon and I am an angel?"

"It's unnatural! We're supposed to kill our enemies not...whatever this is!" Gabriel gestured at them.

"It's love, Gabriel." Aziraphale gave the wincing angels a piteous smile. "It's been love longer than I even realized."

Crowley stood in stunned silence, staring at the angel. There never read was a NEED to hear the word, actions speak louder than words. But it was still nice to hear it.

"An angel cannot be in love with a demon." Uriel sneered.

"Then that's the problem?" Aziraphale closed his eyes, a resolution coming to mind. " Then perhaps it is time I leave heaven's employ."

"What?" The angels shouted at the same time Crowley cried out a "No!"

"Angel don't do this! You don't know what you're deciding!" Crowley felt a sinking panic grow in his heart.

"They won't leave us alone otherwise, dear one." Aziraphale had tears in his eyes, the heartbreak evident. He knew what he was deciding, or he thought he knew. Leaving God's light for eternity.

"Please, angel. You will regret it for the rest of your existence. Don't so this, not for me." Crowley pleaded. There barely was a time he didn't regret what he did more than 6000 years ago.

"I would regret losing you more. It's been lonely the past five and a half months. If this is what it will take to stay with you, nothing will stop me." Aziraphale cupped Crowley's cheek, the demon laying his hand over the angel's.

"Well you are very stubborn, angel."

"I hate to break up this...whatever this is." The two of them glared at the purple eyed so-called angel. "Are you serious about this, Aziraphale? You would Fall, just like that over something trivial?"

Aziraphale crossed his hands behind his back, head held high. "Yes. On one condition. Crowley is to be allowed to leave to the main Street, unharmed."

The trio of archangels looked at each other.

"I'll draft up the paperwork, give me a few" Michael walked briskly out of the room, already fixing her hair.

"Very well. You have my word, he won't-"

"Your word means nothing to me, Gabriel. I'll need a better promise than that." Aziraphale gave a dark, knowing grin. Gone was his blind Faith.

The other angel scowled. "Very well, I swear unto the Almighty that no harm will befall the demon-"

"Crowley."

"-Crowley on his way out."

Aziraphale nodded, accepting that. Breaking an oath to the Lord, while nothing would happen to humans though foolish they get throwing broken promises willy-nilly, could lead an angel to be supremely punished, even fall! He turned back to the demon, who was feeling rather proud at how much the angel had grown. But at what cost?

"By the way, Crowley I do believe this is yours?" He handed the demon the small velvet box. The demon's mouth went dry as he took the box from the angel.

"You...uh...you didn't open it, did you?"

Aziraphale shook his head. "I didn't think it was mine to open, it was on the doorstep of the shop when I found your letter."

So it must have fallen out of his pocket when he stumbled from the blasted blessings.

"Well..." He muttered feeling very nervous and struggling to get the words out. This didn't seem the best way to give it, but perhaps... He paused when the angel placed a hand over his.

"If it is, give it to me when we see each other again." Crowley nodded.

Michael returned with a packet of papers and an official looking stamp. It was time to go, wasn't it? Before leaving, he placed one last kiss on the soon to be fallen angel's forhead.

The words between them remained unspoken, as Crowley headed towards the door that would lead him to he front door, sparing one last glance at Aziraphale's heavenly light.

No demon would ever tell you what happens when you fall. It's a terrifying and devistating thing to happen yes, but it is also different for every demon. And whatever hell was doing to it's newest arrival, only he would ever know.

Crowley sat in his apartment. How long he's sat there, he really couldn't say nor did he care. He was waiting, and he didn't care how long he would have to wait until hell returned the angel to him. He knew it would only be a matter of time as, not too long ago he found he couldn't recall the angel's name. From experience he knew, all record of a fallen's name is stricken from records. It was part of the grand scheme of things, and in a way it was terribly sad. But at the very least he remembered everything about him. Just for the life of him, the name escaped him.

It was just as well, he couldn't even remember his own heavenly name. Names weren't what mattered. Having him here on Earth did. And Crowley had to pull A LOT of favors to pull it off. Lucky for him his whole 'attack heaven' stunt got him attention. Satan, albeit still rather angry about how he had lost his son, was quite impressed that not only did Crowley manage to attack heaven and injure a few angels, and live to tell the tale, but also caused an angel to fall.

Crowley was going to be expected to make up for a lot of ill deeds for the next year. But the demon did not care. He sat primarily on the ornate throne in the center of his living room, the TV playing reruns of the Good Place on low volume. He desperately wanted to get himself drunk, but he wouldn't allow himself. It shouldn't be long, and he didn't want to waste the effort of sobering up when his patience paid off. He ran a hand idly through his hair, which he had grown longer recently. He barely kept it in upkeep though, the curls more pronounced than usual. He just started to wonder if he should change it again when his train of thought was interrupted by an unceremonious thunk on the desk.

"Evening, Master Crawly." A demon with odd shaped horns upon his head greeted.

"Crowley." He corrected, standing up. How many times must he correct them? At least Beelzebub and others used his newer name, though it took them all a thousand years. But all his paperwork still read Crawly.

"Oh, yes. Right!" Crowley noted the lesser demon seemed a bit nervous, shifting on his feet looking around pointedly to a spot on the floor by the door. Ah, right. His infamy of being immune to holy water and killing a Duke of hell with the substance. He thrust a clipboard in his hand. "Sign here!"

"Right." One thing demons loved as much as torturing the damned, was bureaucracy. He licked his finger and scribbled his usual sigil on the paperwork. "Where is...?"

The other demon pointed to Crowley's bedroom. "He'll be in there sir."

"Right. You can go." Crowley waved the demon off, not paying attention to the flash of red and the smell of brimstone lingering. None of that mattered now.

He looked down at the man laying in a somewhat awkward position on his silk sheets. He was wearing frayed black robes, which Crowley rolled his eyes at. With a wave of his hand the fallen angel in his bed was first rearranged in a more comfortable position, then his clothes were changed into something he knew would be more comfortable: tan trousers, a white button up shirt and brown waistcoat. The only thing missing was the tartan bowtie, which he conjured next to the overcoat draped on a chair in the corner.

Crowley noted that his hair was no longer platinum blonde, but a more peppery grey. He wondered if that was from the fall or from ash. He gently ran a hand through the locks, grateful the hair was still soft. He gently ran a hand along the man's cheek.

"Angel?"

The new demon stirred, barely opening his eyes. "Crowley?" He started, before wincing.

"Yes, it's me. Here, drink this." The red haired demon handed the other a glass of ice water, helping him sit up.

"Th..." The word seemed to catch on his throat. He cleared it. "Thank...you..."

Crowley gave a half smile. "yeah... Manners will take time. It's not something a demon uses naturally." He sat in on the edge of the bed next to his dear friend.

"You seem to use them so flawlessly."

"Practice." It wasn't easy, but he had worked hard to re-learn manners if just for the person in front of him. "How are you feeling?"

The non-angel finished off the water, placing the glass on the table next to the bed. "Honestly? Like hell. Although I mean that in the true sense." Crowley nodded in understanding. One might think the fallen angel was making a joke, but he k ew better.

"Crowley, you really attacked heaven on your own? Am I remembering that correctly?"

Crowley looked away, remebering he wasn't wearing his sunglasses. "Yeah. Kind of did. They were hurting you. Changing who you were deep down and I couldn't take it. Figured it would be one last save."

The fallen angel looked incredulously at him. Crowley was saddened at how they were no longer a bright clear sky blue, but a shade darker. They were most definitely the same eyes though.

"I..." the demon in Crowley's bed pondered what he was going to say. "Crowley dear...I must say, I am certainly surprised that I haven't changed at all in how I feel about you. I was most afraid that I would resent you for what I chose, but I don't. I don't regret it.

Crowley let out a short chuckle. "Because, angel. Contrary what others may try to convince you, love doesn't belong to heaven or hell. It belongs to anyone who wants it. Doesn't matter really. Angel, demon, human..."

"Or aardvark."

"Or aardvark... Wait... Aardvark?" Crowley was suddenly very confused.

The other man smiled, shrugging apologetically. "From a memory, some time ago. We were in Rome if I'm remembering correctly. I asked you if you were still a demon, in which you responded-"

"What else would I be, an aardvark?"

He nodded.

"How did you remember that so clearly, angel?" While Crowley remembered the event from nearly 2000 years ago, it wasn't as clear in his head as the other man seemed to indicate.

"The memories are actually still pretty fresh. They actually got me through all...this" he gestured vaguely to himself. Crowley nodded knowingly. "Does it ever get easier?"

Crowley wanted to lie. It would be a very demonic thing to do, and maybe even nice, to say that yes it will get easier losing it all, then heartbreak; but he hated lying to him. "Honestly, no. But you learn to live with it. And without... Her. You know I'm actually surprised she let you go through with this!"

Crowley was very angry that the Almighty had allowed this whole ordeal happen. The rebellion and punishing those guilty by association, sure, fine. But allowing one of her own to be screwed with and bullied, then letting them be removed from heaven? Just what the heaven is that?

"Actually Crowley, my memory is rather fuzzy on everything, it all happened so quick. But I think I met her before leaving. I remember...understanding I want to say. And sadness perhaps. But that's all." He frowned. Even now the memories were fading. Perhaps it was for the best, though he wanted to cry.

Crowley lay a hand on his. "I will say this, angel. I am glad to have you back to normal. As much as we can call this normal."

The man in the bed nodded before remembering something. "Oh, Crowley dear. What ever was in that small box?"

Crowley suddenly felt very thirsty. He miracled fresh water in the glass and downed it in seconds, wishing it was alcohol. But he knew there would be time for drinking later.

"I wanted to give this to you, over six months ago. It took me a lot of calculations for me to figure out." He took the small box out of his pocket, it suddenly feeling really quite heavy. "Did you know I helped create some of the stars?" The other man shook his head silently, eyes wide. "Yeah. Specifically the nebula in Alpha Centuri. S'why I wanted to take you there. I knew those stars. I had to figure which ones were mine. My name isn't on them anymore no, but you never forget something you MADE." Crowley chuckled. "I went there a while ago, when I told you I was going to be busy."

The other man nodded. "You said you wanted some 'me time' I think you called it. I sensed you had gone rather far away, but I never sensed you in any danger, so I didn't think too much of it. Missed you hanging around the shop though."

Crowley nodded, suddenly remembering that the shop was now inaccessible to the both of them. The fallen angel seemed to not have realized or at least not mentioned it, he'd worry about that later.

"It was shortly after finishing the nebula that the rebellion began. I had named them all but two, and it took me a great deal to figure which ones. They're named now. " He gave a cocky smile, yellow eyes meeting deep blue.

"Oh."

Crowley slipped into a more comfortable position, stretching his legs out on the floor, looking up at the other demon. "Took a piece of the newest one. Worked hard getting it to look right. Cuz shortly after the rebellion the whole Eden thing happened, right?"

The realization clicked. "You mean... It's been..."

"6000 years to the day... Well plus six months now, those bastards ruined my plans." Crowley scowled.

"Well we no longer have to worry about them now, do we. Unless hell...?"

Crowley shook his head. "They won't be bothering us, Especially now that..." He trailed off and cleared his throat. "I've been sitting on this question for well over 6000 years." He stayed kneeling on the ground next to the bed, holding the box in his hand, he opened it. "Angel, will you stay by my side for all of eternity?"

The light twinkled in the fallen angel's blue eyes, he was all but speechless for a few moments. "I... Yes, my love. I will. Although not angel anymore really."

Crowley smiled, placing the ring on his finger. "No matter what you are, angel, demon, human... aardvark," He winked. " You will always be MY angel." Cupping a cheek, Crowley placed a warm kiss on his lips, one that had been waited for long enough.


End file.
